


Cold

by RedandLizzie



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lizzington - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2455136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedandLizzie/pseuds/RedandLizzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red and Liz are stuck in the cold. Set in the future - let's say late winter 2015, but S2E3 makes a little appearance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> No scars on Red's back for this story as this one has nothing to do with myth arc - it’s just for fun. Set in the future - let’s say late winter 2015 but S2E3 makes a little appearance because really now, how can I not sneak in a nod to the dream?
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Blacklist or any of these wonderful characters. The brilliant Jon Bokenkamp and NBC do. This is a transformative work and no money is being made from this story.

The cold had begun to seep into Liz's bones two hours earlier. Though she was bundled in layers - long underwear, wool slacks with matching jacket, and coat; the frigid temperature perforated the walls and windows of the old brick home. She had carried in most of the freshly cut logs she had found on the porch when she first arrived, content that the supply would last through the night; but after she discovered it was nearly impossible to start a fire, let alone keep green wood burning, she began cursing Raymond Reddington under her breath. She was stuck in God forsaken nowhere New Hampshire, in near to zero temperature, because of him.

Giving up on the fireplace, Liz rummaged through the house looking for an alternative heat source; finding none, she decided to drag a twin mattress into the nearly vacant living room so she wouldn't be forced to sit in one of the two tiny and seemingly ice backed leather chairs. After wrapping herself in a mound of blankets, she closed her eyes and tried to think warm thoughts of bubble baths, saunas, and beaches. This methodology worked for awhile but when darkness descended, she realized she could no longer feel her fingers. As she stood and began to jump up and down, doing her best to generate body heat, the sound of creaking floorboards had her fumbling for her Glock. When she heard Red's voice, she immediately let loose on a long and quite colorful collection of swear words, making sure to include "Reddington" every so often.

After ceasing her tirade, she realized she couldn't make out his facial expression but the tilt of his head told her he was amused and the tone of his voice made her want to punch him. "Whatever are you doing, Lizzie?"

"What I'm doing is freezing to death, Red. Our wood supply is green, it won't burn. And where the hell have you been, anyway? And where's Dembe with the car? He texted and said we were stuck here for the night, that he couldn't communicate further."

Red removed his fedora as he stepped further into the small living room and replied. "There were unforeseen circumstances, Dembe won't be here until well after noon tomorrow as it's best to lay low for awhile. I had to hoof it the five miles to this place."

Liz shook her head and mumbled, "Well, that is just fu-"

Red immediately cut her off, "Language, Lizzie. You've more than provided enough four letter commentary to last our stay here. Move on, it doesn't help the situation."

"Yeah, well it makes me feel better. And I don't appreciate you telling me, after sticking me in this hell hole, what I should and should not say."

When he simply continued to stand, watching her in response, Liz sighed and softly said, "I'm cold. I've been cold for nearly five hours."

After a lengthy pause he spoke, "Let me see about the fire. Why don't you check the kitchen - there should be some staples. I'm nearly certain there's an exceptional bottle of an 82' Bordeaux in the wine rack."

She huffed and moved past him without speaking. It took her a considerable amount of time to rummage through the near pitch black kitchen, the only significant light coming from her cell phone as she searched cabinets and the pantry. After assembling her haul in a large woven basket, she made her way down the narrow hall, the soft glow of firelight greeting her as she made the last turn.

As she stepped into the room, she was greeted with a grinning Red, coat and jacket off, vest unbuttoned, shirt sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm. "Hello, Lizzie."

Her eyes danced between his face and the fireplace and she couldn't help but smile back before saying, "I have no idea how you did that, but I'm sure glad your boy scout skills are up to par."

He chuckled and said, "The Navy was good for something. You found food, I see."

She nodded. "Yes, and the Bordeaux, and most importantly dark chocolate."

Red studied the basket for a few seconds then spoke. "The water heater runs on propane, so if you don't mind setting out the meal, I'm going to take a shower. That hike was long and through wooded terrain, and combined with four layers of clothing - "

She waved her hand at him. "Go. I've got this. I can't cook, but this I can handle. Do you want my phone so you have light?"

"Yes, please, and thank you. At least until I can find the candles that should be in the hall closet."

Liz sat the basket down and moved forward, reaching out, handing him her phone. As their fingers came in contact, Red said, "You're freezing," before taking hold of her hand with both of his.

She met his eyes and said in an agitated tone, "Yes, that's what I told you."

His brow furrowed before he took half a step closer, bringing one hand to the side of her face and then skimming his fingers along the front of her neck before returning that hand to hold hers again. "Are you cold everywhere or primarily your hands?"

Liz looked up at him, surprised by his touch, not sure why her skin tingled where he had made contact with her cheek and at the hollow of her throat; she attempted to write off the sensation to his much warmer skin and was successful until he reached for her other hand, rolling her fingers into a fist before cupping that hand tightly in both of his.

She was dumbstruck. Her gaze unable to divert from his green eyes and the long gold eyelashes that framed them. Liz was certain Red could stare down every fighting bull in Spain, and though she felt on edge, she couldn't pull her eyes away from his. A number of seconds later, she realized he was stroking the scar on her wrist, and she found her gaze falling to his mouth, the draw of him becoming intense.

Liz watched as his mouth formed another question. "Do you have sensation in your fingers?"

She moved her eyes back to his and softly answered, "I have sensation everywhere."

The second the words left her mouth, she let out a long breath and felt his thumb stop the motion against her skin, a gentle pressure being applied instead. He slowly blinked before his eyes held firm and finally said, "Good, that's very good."

Time froze and Liz finally began to feel warmth in her body, unsure if the heat was coming from the fire, or from her reaction to Red's touch. As they continued to stare at one another, she felt Red's thumb move to the pulse point on her wrist. She immediately knew he was attempting to gauge her reaction and her temper flared. She shook her head at him and pulled her hand out of his grasp before stepping back and saying. "You can't just... you always have to be in control, always have the edge."

His head tilted slightly to the left and she took another step back before raising her voice an octave. "I'm perfectly aware of the physiological signs of arousal. Care to hear the list? Increased heart rate - that one you're clearly aware of since you were checking mine. Flushing - am I flushed? Bet so." After a pause, she continued, forcing her voice to become quieter, losing the angry tone. "What about my breathing - did that pick up too? Can't forget pupil dilation."

As she became aware of the situation she was in - stuck in an old house in late winter with no means of separating herself from him, Liz dropped her head, finally giving in to the urge to look away from his penetrating gaze, growing embarrassed, not being able to remotely guess what he was thinking as his face had remained blank throughout.

She questioned if she should continue and decided to plough through as it wasn't possible for things to get worse. "Yes, I am attracted to you. You made sure my world revolves around you. Naturally, that was bound to happen. That was your plan, I'm sure. But that doesn't mean that I..." She sighed and looked back up at him. She had been aware of her emotions regarding this man for awhile and to say that she didn't have feelings for him would be a lie. "You know what irritates the hell out of me? For a man so verbose, you're letting me flounder."

His voice rang out, deep, gravely, and warm, "Blood pressure."

Liz was confused and asked, "What does that mean?"

He moved and didn't stop until there was only a matter of a couple of inches separating them, she could feel his warm breath on her face, smell the remnants of the aftershave he had used that morning, and see the slight stubble of his beard. She searched his eyes and when he reached for her hand, she swallowed, immediately understanding those two words. When he grasped her wrist and began to slowly move her hand between them, her abdominal muscles tensed into tight knots as her fingers brushed the evidence of his arousal, and when he placed her hand over his pounding heart, her lips parted.

"We can't both lead, Lizzie. I've always left this decision up to you."

Her breath heaved as her knees grew weak, and at the same time she felt a flood of desire pooling below her stomach. Her hand fell to her side as soon as Red removed his and she asked, "What does this mean? To you?"

He chuckled softly then grew serious again before answering. "Aww sweetheart, it means you hold all the cards and I'm left with a single joker." He then leaned in and placed his lips at her ear and whispered, "When you're ready. When you've decided what you want, Lizzie. Who you really want."

In the next instant he stepped around her and she heard his near silent footsteps as he made his way down the hall.

* * *

_Note: I'm anticipating 1-2 more chapters and hope this gets my muse back on track, so I can finish my works in progress (Fight, Means, Dubiety) that I've left hanging over the summer. The next chapter may be bumped up to an M rating. Feedback is appreciated. Also, for all the new Lizzington shippers, I have a blog (RedXLizzie) recommending Lizzington stories which you may find a direct link to in my profile._


End file.
